Personal Justice: A Private Investigator Mystery Series by Hill Rayven T

Author:Hill, Rayven T. [Hill, Rayven T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery & Detective, thriller, Mystery, Fiction, Crime, Retail
ISBN: 9780993862564
Amazon: 099386256X
Barnesnoble: 099386256X
Goodreads: 26723598
Publisher: Ray of Joy Publishing
Published: 2015-03-11T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 28

Wednesday, 3:54 p.m.

RHPD WAS NOTIFIED when the 9-1-1 call came in and cruisers were dispatched immediately to secure the scene. Hank was informed, and by the time he and King pulled to the shoulder of the road behind a cruiser, its lights still flashing blue and red, the CSI van had already arrived.

The access lane leading to the tracks was taped off, and the main focus of attention seemed to be near a group of bushes, down the lane, along the side of the railroad tracks.

The coroner’s van pulled in behind Hank’s vehicle and Nancy Pietek stepped from the passenger side. She joined the detectives. “Lovely afternoon, Hank, King,” she said.

“Nice day to be alive,” Hank answered.

King nodded, grunted, and said nothing.

The small group went up the lane where investigators did what they do best. Trace evidence was being photographed, collected, and documented. Most of it would be meaningless, but the search for any elusive piece of telltale evidence would be thorough.

Hank approached Rod Jameson, lead CSI. “What do we have?” he asked, glancing at the body on the ground a few feet away.

Jameson consulted his clipboard. “Thirty-three year old male. Looks like he was shot in the chest. I’ll defer that to Nancy. According to his driver’s license, his name’s Michael Norton.”

Hank whistled. “Michael Norton?” He moved closer to the body and leaned over. There was no mistake; the pale white face was that of Michael Norton. The body lay flat on its back, facing upwards, the arms resting at each side. He looked like he might be sleeping, except his eyes were open, and he was very, very dead.

Nancy stepped over beside Hank and crouched down. She pulled aside the red, plaid shirt, soaked with crimson, and made an examination of his chest wound.

“Gunshot wound to the heart,” she said. “Small caliber weapon.” She pointed to the shirt. “Appears to be gunshot residue on the front of the shirt. As close as I can guess right now, he was shot from a distance of eighteen to twenty-four inches.”

“Close up and personal,” Hank said.

Nancy rolled the body slightly and examined the back. “Livor mortis shows he might’ve been killed here, or dropped here within a few minutes of death.” She pointed to a light, purplish discoloration of the skin. “See how the blood has begun to settle. It starts to pool a few minutes after death and congeals after a few hours.”

Jameson had come over, listening to Nancy’s report. “It makes sense he was killed elsewhere, Hank,” he said, pointing to the laneway. “We found evidence the body was dragged from over there. And there are trace amounts of blood on the ground. That would indicate he was dead already.”

“Or at least, mortally wounded,” King added.

“I’d say he was already dead at the time the body was deposited here,” Nancy said. “The shot would’ve killed him immediately.”

King turned to Jameson. “Probably brought here in a vehicle. Any tire tracks?”

Jameson shrugged. “They’re still looking closely at that, but the ground is hard.

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